


A Beginning, Some Middles and an End

by SlashHat



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Cheating, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sad Ending, Size Difference, archiving old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-27
Updated: 2008-02-27
Packaged: 2020-05-31 09:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19423615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlashHat/pseuds/SlashHat
Summary: Snippets from six months in the life





	A Beginning, Some Middles and an End

They had been leaning aginst the battered caravan and chatting idly about ailerons for about five minutes when James leant over and kissed him. Richard kissed back, naturally, hamming it up enthusiastically.  
"Where's the camera?" he asked, as soon as his mouth became available.  
"No, they really have gone down the pub," said James, and kissed him again.  
Richard thumped on the caravan door. "Jezza, you can come out now!"  
"He's genuinely picking up the car," said James. And kissed him.  
"Well, what's going on, then?"  
"I just wanted to kiss you, really." James had somehow got very near to him. When he kissed him this time, their toes almost touched. Richard wasn't sure why he noticed this in particular. There seemed to be quite a lot to notice, somehow, and his brain didn't seem quite up to sorting it all out for some reason. Toes were a nice safe thing to think about, surely?  
"Um. Could you stop now, then?" he managed to ask. There, that was quite coherent.  
James kissed him consideringly. "I'm quite enjoying it, you see," he explained.  
Richard brought up his left hand, carefully not noticing that James was really quite close to pinning him against the side of the caravan. Why did people go around being bigger than him all the time, anyway? He waggled the fingers a bit. "Married, yes?"  
"Yeah." James kissed him very gently.  
"So, stop it."  
James didn't kiss him. However, nuzzling his neck wasn't really all that much better, he found. His pulse seemed to be hammering a bit. And didn't he usually breathe more often?  
"That's unscrupulous!"  
"Not actually trying to have scruples, mate." He kissed him once more, and then they just stood, pressed together from shoulder (well, Richard's shoulder) to foot, in a rather nasty car park, listening to each other breathing. It would be pretty easy to gently push James away. Yes. And ask him what he'd been drinking. Or better still, never refer to this again in any way. That was the way to go.  
He didn't really know why he tilted his chin up, instead. But this kiss was probably the best yet.

\--

Looking into James's eyes in the mirror in his dressing room as his hand tightened around his prick.

Sitting in the pub waiting for Jeremy to stop going on about meusli-eating bastard environmentalists, and wondering if James was thinking about the same thing he was. Did that tiny smile mean anything?

Laughing until his stomach ached at James trying not to get tetchy about having someone in his room, using up his air or something.

Having a warming cup of terrible coffee and a look at each others' cars before the cameras started rolling. Crowded round James's pale green... item..., James complaining about how terrible the driver's seat was in it.  
Jeremy knew better, as ever. "They were brilliant seats in that model, what're you on about? You've got piles or something."  
"Piles yourself, you're older than I am."  
"Ah, Hammond been buggering you senseless again, then. Let me try that seat."  
Richard choked on his coffee and managed to spill most of the cup over the bonnet.  
Jeremy paused as he was folded halfway through the door, which looked quite ridiculous, not that Richard was in the right state of mind to appreciate that with his sinuses full of hot acidic brown stuff.  
"Remembered that coffee stains the teeth, have you?"  
Richard was glad of the excuse to yell something inarticulate, throw up his arms and stomp off to the edge of the track.  
The sound of Clarkson admitting he was wrong, ("No, you're right, actually, May, this feels like there are rocks in it,") was not as soothing as it should have been. James wandered over and elbowed him companionably in the ribs.  
"I know he was only joking, OK? It just made me jump."  
"Fiver that he spins that stupid Jag before the third corner?"  
"Second, I reckon. D'you want me to bugger you senseless, by the way?"  
James looked thoughtful for a moment. "Not particularly. Although you know what they say about trying everything once, I suppose."  
"What, that it leads to you making a complete tit of yourself?"  
"Mm."  
The director yelled something from the other end of the track; almost certainly that they had about two minutes of decent light left and did they ever want to get anything in the can, it was usually something like that. They strolled back towards the cars, in step.

Holding his wife, smelling her hair, but the rush of love and comfort was replaced by a horrible sick guilt.

\--

The way they were never friends again.


End file.
